


Lonely Is The Night

by carrionkid



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Bonding Over Mental Illness, Childhood Trauma, Coping, Gen, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 1, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11295849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkid
Summary: Title is from the song by Billy Squier. Things have settled down, post GOTG Vol. 1, and things are getting too quiet for Gamora. Peter confronts her and tells her that they're more alike than she thinks. I wanted to write about Gamora and Peter bonding over being traumatized and low-key suicidal. This sounds really morbid but it's mainly about coping. I'm also on tumblr asstardorkquill-Working under Ronan was undeniably horrible, but it did have one perk. It kept her busy. It was a distraction, one which she no longer has the luxury of.Things were okay for a while, but it was inevitable that her own thoughts were going to draw her back in. There’s a gaping wound in her chest, a star that went supernova long ago and is now a black hole slowly consuming her. It’s quiet when she has something to do, something to focus on, something that’s more real than the pit inside of her.





	Lonely Is The Night

Working under Ronan was undeniably horrible, but it did have one perk. It kept her busy. It was a distraction, one which she no longer has the luxury of. 

 

Things were okay for a while, but it was inevitable that her own thoughts were going to draw her back in. There’s a gaping wound in her chest, a star that went supernova long ago and is now a black hole slowly consuming her. It’s quiet when she has something to do, something to focus on, something that’s more real than the pit inside of her.

 

Quill set up a cot for her when they first left Xandar. The Milano is cramped with five people in it, but he made sure that he had cots for her and Drax. Rocket refused one and she had half the mind to do the same, but it’d make them concerned. Still, she ends up here. It’s a small room, tucked away and hard to find, probably used for smuggling back a lifetime ago. She is stuck in the haze between being asleep and being awake; it’s the worst kind of purgatory. 

 

She’s tired but she doesn’t want to try to sleep because she’s afraid of what she might dream. So, she stays curled up, facing the wall. The cold metal against her cheek reminds her of the place she used to call home. She isn’t sure how long she’s been here, but it can’t have been too long since no one’s come looking for her. Sure enough, thinking it jinxes it because there’s a knock on the door.

 

“Hey. Hey, Gamora.” 

 

_ Quill _ . Figures he’d come snooping around. It is his ship, after all, and he’d know about all the hiding places. She’s still foolish enough to hope that he’ll go away, so she stays silent.

 

“I know you’re in there!” 

 

Looks like it isn’t her lucky day.

 

“Come in,” she speaks up just enough that he can hear her. 

 

The door slides open and he steps inside. She squeezes her eyes shut, the light makes her head ache. Peter sits down; she can feel him behind her but she doesn’t turn to face him. Instead, she twines her hair in her hands and curls even farther into herself.

 

“You’re my friend, right G?” He’s whispering, like she’ll break if he speaks too loudly.

 

In any other situation, Gamora would retaliate. She would pin him to the wall, knife to his throat, and ask him what gave him the right to be so patronizing. But, her limbs feel like dead weights and all she can do is make a noise of confirmation.

 

Peter swallows hard, “So you’d tell me if you weren’t feeling okay, right?”

 

She’s getting soft, she should threaten him for even suggesting that. She is trying to become something better, but it’s just making her feel more bare and vulnerable. 

 

“I’m fine,” Gamora mumbles out, the words feel thick on her tongue and her voice sounds like it’s coming from somebody else.

 

“This isn’t what fine looks like…” Peter sighs.

 

“It’s only a weakness if you let it be.”

 

The words aren’t her own. They’re Ronan’s, they’re Thanos’, and each syllable rings with their voices.

 

“And that’s why I’m here!” Peter throws his hands up in the air. 

 

Gamora knew this was coming, Quill might seem nice, he might act like he cares, but deep down, he wants the same thing from her. He’s more insidious than Thanos ever was, at least Thanos was upfront about it. He’s saying the same thing as Thanos, just in a nicer way.  _ Stop letting your weakness get the best of you and get back to being useful. _

 

She curls tighter, grits her teeth, and spits out, “I  _ understand _ .”

 

“You do?!” Peter pauses for a second, “Wait. No. I don’t think you do.”

 

Gamora doesn’t answer, so he shifts until he’s lying on his back next to her, “It’s hard when things get quiet, isn’t it?”

 

He waits long enough that it’s obvious she isn’t going to reply before continuing, “I was alone a lot when I was a kid. Wasn’t my momma’s fault ‘cos she was dying and all. Wasn’t my Grandad’s fault either. Then it was always loud and busy when I lived with the Ravagers, but when I left, I was alone again.” 

 

It takes her a few seconds to realize what’s happening. He’s opening up to her. Gamora decides it has to be some kind of a trap. He wants to catch her in something, why else would he be doing this?

 

“When it gets quiet, your thoughts get real loud and it’s never good,” Peter sighs again and lets the room slip into silence. 

 

“I’m fine,” she says again, just to see if it’ll get him to leave. Instead, it just has the opposite effect. 

 

Peter shifts around uncomfortably, “I think you do reckless shit because you don’t really care if you make it out. You don’t wanna, like, kill yourself, but you also don’t really  _ care.  _ And it’s easier when you have a job because then you can’t die because people are waiting on you. Maybe they don’t really  _ care  _ about you but they’re still waiting on you.” 

 

Gamora twists her hair around her hands and pulls hard; it hurts but that’s the point. She’s crying, she doesn’t know when that started but her cheeks are wet.  

 

She shoots up lightning quick and pins Peter to the floor, then bares her teeth and growls out, “ _ What makes you think you know a single fucking thing about me? _ ”

 

Peter stays silent and just when Gamora is starting to think that maybe he did all of this just to rile her up, he speaks.

 

“Because I’ve been there,” his voice is soft but steady, almost gentle, “I mean. I’m probably still  _ there _ , technically. I don’t think getting friends  _ fixed  _ me, but it’s better.”

 

Gamora’s crying harder now. She doesn’t want to be in this situation, but she’s frozen there, hovering over top of Peter and watching her tears drop down onto his jacket. He doesn’t move, doesn’t hit her or kick her, just waits.

 

He trusts her. 

 

_ He trusts her. _

 

She doesn’t know why. All of them trust her, despite everything she’s done. They all know and they still trust her.

 

Gamora climbs off of Peter and shifts until she’s sitting with her back to the wall. She draws her knees up close to her chest and leans her forehead against them. She can hear Peter sitting up. 

 

“Why are you doing this?” she chokes out.

 

“Cos we’re friends, Gamora.” 

 

_ You don’t have to do this _ , she thinks to herself,  _ I don’t deserve this. _

 

“I’m looking for jobs,” Peter keeps his voice low, “People aren’t really looking for people that do good things, there’s a lot more demand for people doing bad things. If we get desperate, I still have some contacts from my Ravager days.” 

 

Gamora makes a noise of confirmation.

 

“In the meantime, you have us. We can help make things less quiet,” Peter sounds like he’s pleading with her and she wonders what happened that got her to this moment. 

 

It’s not a good moment by any means but she’s feeling  _ something.  _ She’s feeling the most alive she’s felt without almost dying in a long time.

 

“I won’t drag you out of here ‘cos sometimes you just have to cry it out, but we’ll be there when you want us,” Peter opens the door again, Gamora keeps her eyes down to avoid the light, “Just promise me you’ll let me know if things start getting bad.” 

 

“Okay,” she looks up at Peter in the doorway.

 

He grins, “Okay, when you’re feelin’ better, Drax is trying to juggle his knives. It’s funnier than it sounds, I promise.”

 

She smiles, just a bit, as Peter’s leaving.

 

“Hey, Quill.”

 

Peter turns back, “Yeah?”

 

“Thanks.” 

 

Peter nods and shuts the door behind him. Gamora isn’t ready to go out yet, but something about knowing people are waiting for her, people who aren’t using her, makes that empty space in her chest feel just a little bit smaller.


End file.
